Absurdity is the real of children, according to some. But Lewis Carroll has shown different as Alice Adventure’s in Wonderland remains a classic and part of the “to be read in a lifetime” lists.
I never read Alice Adventure’s in Wonderland as a child, and I didn’t particularly like the Disney adaptation of the book either. That had nothing to do with the tale but mostly with the main character. Alice was a bit of a snobbish brat in my eyes, with her perfect girly outfit. I was the kind of child that liked Aladdin because he was a thief, and who tried to wield a sword the same way Mulan did. However, as I am an aspiring children’s book writer I decided that it was about time I read this classic children’s tale. And while reading, I ate every single word I had ever stated about it.
Sitting on the couch I suddenly wonder. What would my grandmother think if she saw me now; covered with a blanket, comfortable snuggled into the pillows with a cup of tea in my hands. What would she think if we could talk just one more time…?
The last time we spoke, a moment of which I was fully aware that it would be the very last, she thanked me. Her grip on my hand was still so strong but her body had been failing her for quite a while at that time. My grandmother, almost 86 when she passed away, had heard so much of what I told her over the last three years of her life. She had been suprisingly supportive towards me. I knew from stories how stern she could be, how harsh. It was scary to tell her I was bisexual, and it was fun to plan my Scotland trip with her. I never got to show her the pictures, she passed away six months before I left. And I never got the chance to tell her about all the other discoveries I made in the two years she has now been gone. That I found out I like writing multilinear stories, that I discovered working-life can be tough as nails, that sending your manuscript to a publishing house is bloody scary, that I met some awesome new friends that she probably would have criticized anyway, that I came out as actually being gay on the first day of a heatstroke that stuck with the Netherlands for almost 6 straight weeks last summer.
But mostly I wonder if she would have visited my new appartment, my first ever. In the end she couldn’t walk anymore but the complex has an elevator and my house consists of one floor. Maybe she would have, maybe I would have just shown her pictures. I will never know.
It is weird, but from time to time I think about her. About how she would’ve reacted, what she would’ve thought and said. And I wonder, just wonder.
Because it’s been two years today, and the answers will never come.
It’s NaNoWriMo! National November Writing Month! This means that this month I try to tackle 50.000 words in one month. It’s a bit of a stretch, a challenge even more so considering the writer’s block is still biting me at the ankles. As I’ve only recently found inspiration and the love for writing again everything is still very much behind. This blog, my website, a multi-linear story I wish to launch before the end of the year. And now, three other projects have presented themselves to be written this month.
Juggling this while also having a fulltime job and a trip planned might be a bit much, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to reach it. My goal right now is to write at least one sentence each day and try to have at least one post written as well. This is also to create a bit of a more substantial back up here. Because this racing against the clock is not for me…